Undaunted
by Ryan Brooklyn
Summary: Oneshot. Sequel to “Unexpected.” Draco and Luna meet again. However this time it’s not so unexpected. In fact, Luna had been waiting for him with a very important message. Set during DH after Luna was captured by Death Eaters.


**A/N: Felt the urge to write this. I know it's been done before, but I'm hoping this'll be different than all the rest. It's a sequel to my other Draco/Luna fanfic "Unexpected." I suggest you read that first, otherwise you might be confused.**

**Disclaimer:** _Yes, I own the Harry Potter series. On DVD._

**Rating: G to PG**

**Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Friendship**

**Summary:** Sequel to "Unexpected." Draco and Luna meet again. However this time it's not so unexpected. In fact, Luna had been waiting for him with a very important message. Set during DH after Luna was captured by Death Eaters.

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**Undaunted**

When Draco heard that "that Lovegood girl" had been captured and was currently being held in the secret room beneath the drawing room, he had to see for himself. Although his father had forbidden Draco to interact with the prisoners, the Slytherin boy's mind kept returning to that night on the Astronomy Tower the previous year. He hadn't really thought about her since that unexpected encounter, but as soon as Loony Lovegood's name was mentioned, the memory came flooding back and he had to see her, if only to satiate his curiosity. He hadn't seen her in a long time and wondered if she was as Loony as always. At least, that was the excuse he gave himself. So while everyone else was asleep in bed, Draco crept downstairs to the drawing room.

Pulling his dressing robes closer around him, he made his way cautiously to the door to the room below. He suddenly wished he had remembered his slippers. His bare feet were already starting to cramp with the cold. The wind had been howling outside his window, a snow storm was on the way. The temperature had dropped drastically. A smirk lifted the corner of his pale lips as he remembered how he used to be afraid of storms when he was younger. But his father had told him to not be foolish. Malfoy Manor was too grand and the Malfoys too important to be swept away in a silly storm. Although he scoffed at the idea now, Draco couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia remembering a time when things had been simpler. When things had been better. . . .

He almost didn't see her at first. It was completely dark in the room, and although he was hesitant to bring it out, he used his wand as a light to scan the area. Ollivander was closer, huddled near the door, shivering. The room was frigid. Draco's gaze swept over the man and then moved on, not interested in the pathetic creature. No, the person he was looking for was farther back, slumped against the far wall. Again he wished for slippers as he made his way to her. The floor was colder than the air.

The girl didn't look up when he approached. She was holding herself up by her thin, lily-white arms. She was covered with dirt from when she'd been abducted and tried to get away. Her hair was down and tangled, hiding her face as the long locks brushed the floor with their tips. Still, as he crouched in front of her, holding his wand up to see her better, he could see a flash of silvery gray from behind the curtain of dull gold. She was watching him, he was sure of it. And he didn't know what to say. For a moment he berated himself inwardly, cursing. He shouldn't have come here. What was he going to say anyway? _"I'm sorry they caught you and brought you here?"_ He had no reason to be sorry. It wasn't like they were planning on killing her. She was here for ransom, nothing more. Although that look he had seen in Bellatrix's eyes while they were discussing the Lovegood brat had made him somewhat uneasy.

In the end he didn't need to speak. Brushing the hair out of her face on one side with a pale hand, she smiled vaguely.

"Hello, Draco."

Her voice held the same dreamy quality it always had. Draco could only stare at her mouth. Was she . . . _smiling_? Why in the world was she smiling? Didn't she realize where she was? What they could do to her? He swallowed hard. What _he_ could do to her? The Mark on his arm burned. The Dark Lord thought he was weak. If he roughed the prisoners up, showing that he wasn't sympathetic in the least, that he _could_ do something horrible in the Dark Lord's name . . .

Draco realized his hands were shaking. The light from his wand wobbled, casting strange shadows across Loony's serene features. Tightening his grip, he scowled at her. Then he noticed that she was shivering as well, though much more subtly. _Must be the cold_, he mused, pulling his warm dressing robes closer around him. It was freezing in this dark place. While Loony was dressed in a coat and was wearing multi-colored leggings, her feet and head were bare. Draco did a double-take when he saw the former.

"Are you completely mad?" he hissed in agitation. When she just looked at him he elaborated. "Where're your shoes?"

"I took them off when you came in," she answered absentmindedly. "I saw you didn't have any on, and I didn't think it was very polite that I had some and you didn't." She tucked the other side of hair behind her ear so now both protuberant eyes stared at him.

Her unblinking gaze unnerved him and he found himself inexplicably growling out, "Well, put them back on. Don't you realize how cold it is?"

After a moment she reached behind her and pulled out her shoes, putting them back on methodically, glancing every once and a while at him. Draco realized he should leave now. He should really leave. _Now_. For some strange, unknown reason, Loony Lovegood was getting under his defenses. Again. Just like on the Astronomy Tower. His lips burned at the memory of her innocent little "kiss" that had proved ineffective in making him feel better. He had been so completely taken off his guard he had only stared after her in disbelief and shock. It was embarrassing to think about now, with her looking at him so frankly. Her gaze seemed to see right through him, to the very core of him. He started to rise to his feet, ready to sprint for the doorway. But then icy fingers touched his forearm. His left forearm. He flinched involuntarily. The fingers drew back.

"Was it difficult, Draco?" Loony asked, tilting her head to the side. "When you were trying to kill Dumbledore?"

Draco froze, dumbfounded. He wished now more than ever that he had run when he had had a chance. Now he was like a block of ice in this small room; the wall seemed to close in on him. He felt as though he were suffocating, being pushed in from all sides. Unbidden memories surfaced. The fear, the pain, the calm, compassionate look in the Headmaster's eyes, and then . . . nothing. He was gone over the side. But not by his hand. By his Professor's. The Dark Lord had not been pleased with Draco. It was only because Dumbledore was indeed dead that Draco had not been incinerated on the spot.

And now Loony was asking. . . . He drew himself up, ready to get defensive, to brag about how easy it was . . . until he caught her silver gaze and relaxed by a fraction. There was no accusation in her eyes, only curiosity. But still, he could not bring himself to answer her.

There was silence except for the faint sounds of the storm coming from above them. Finally Draco stood, gaining control of his limbs at last. He would not let this loony girl bring his barriers come crashing down. Why did she have to be so perceptive? Why couldn't she hate him like the rest of them? It would be easier, he knew. It would be a lot easier to be cruel to her if she hated him. But she didn't. And he couldn't figure out why.

"Oh," she said finally. "I suppose that was a rather rude question. But I really was curious. I understand some things better now, you see. About that time in the Astronomy Tower. You remember?"

Draco could only nod, glancing over his shoulder at the door. It seemed so far away, stretching miles and miles in the wrong direction. He took a step backwards then stopped as Loony stood, picking up his wand. He frowned in confusion. It was on the floor? When had he dropped it?

Loony waved the wand around, her hand flapping back and forth. For a brief moment he was afraid. Was she trying to curse him? But then he recognized the movements. He smirked as a rush of relief filled him. Loony was just being her regularly batty self. He rolled his eyes.

"Wrackspurts?" he asked scornfully, snatching his wand from her.

"Yes, actually," she replied with an absent smile. Her hair slipped from behind her right ear and covered her eye. She reached up absently and twirled a strand of the dirty golden hair around her finger. "There are an unusual number around you tonight. But . . . I think you know that already." Her silver gaze transfixed him again, and for a moment he thought . . . but no, that was impossible. He had grown increasingly well in the art of Occlumency. There was not the slightest chance Loony could have seen into his mind during his brief relapse into weakness. Pasting a derisive smile onto his pale lips, he scoffed, doing his best to resurrect the destabilized barriers around his emotions. It used to be so simple, shutting down his feelings. And yet this Loony Lovegood seemed to have an uncanny ability to bring them forth. It was not something he enjoyed. In fact, he wished she would attack him or something, so he would have no qualms about retaliating in the only way he knew: through harsh, cruel words and deeds.

But she smiled instead and suddenly he couldn't hold in the question any longer.

"What the bloody hell are you smiling about?" he exclaimed. "You're a captive! Don't you understand that?"

"Oh, it's not so bad," Loony said, her head tilting again, her gaze becoming distant as she looked over his shoulder toward the door. "I'm alive. Mr. Ollivander is alive. We have Wrackspurts to keep us company. And I discovered a family of mice in the wall. They're such tiny creatures. Not nearly as exciting as a Crumple-Horned Snorkack, but quite fascinating in their own way." She focused on Draco's face once more and smiled again.

He could only stare at her. She stepped closer and finally a tiny frown wrinkled her smooth brow.

"I think you care now, Draco," she said, her voice not as lilting as usual. He started, shaking himself out of his stupor. He glared at her.

"You're wrong," he said flatly, because he needed it to be true. "You think I'd be a Death Eater if I cared?"

Loony's large eyes glistened, and for a moment he thought they were wet with tears. But that wouldn't make any sense. Why would she be crying? In fact they'd gone back to normal already. Well, as normal as her eyes would ever get, he supposed. Even as he felt satisfaction fill him, he felt a strange sense of loss as well. By admitted that he didn't care, had he just given up something? He didn't believe so.

This line of reasoning was confusing him, and he shook his head.

"You're lucky the Dark Lord needs you alive," he snarled, pointing his wand at her in what he hoped was a threatening way. "Even so, you'd better watch that mouth of yours."

"Mmm, I think you want to care," Loony stated absently.

"You're wrong," Draco repeated, tightening his lips and setting his jaw so firmly it hurt.

Without warning, Loony reached up and touched Draco's gaunt cheek. He flinched as the icy fingers brushed against his flushed skin and shied away immediately. She blinked.

"Are you unwell?" she asked innocently. "Your cheek is warm. Do you have a fever?" Her large eyes filled with concern, and Draco was again at a loss for words. Soundlessly, he shook his head, clenching his teeth together. He could feel a muscle twitch in his cheek and wanted to relax his face, a headache was approaching fast, but he knew he couldn't. Not in front of her.

"My father always prescribes a broth," Loony went on. "They can be quite good if you make it correctly."

Draco regretted come down here. _I should have left my curiosity alone_, he thought dismally, wondering if he would ever escape. But Loony seemed to have wound down. She was now humming quietly to herself, gazing up at the dark ceiling. Draco took his chance. Backing up slowly, he kept an eye on the girl, ready to bolt if she made any sudden movements. But she remained still, letting him retreat. He felt like a coward doing so, but he felt if he spent any more time with her, he might just break down from the pressure. But this made not a shred of sense given that Loony had no intention of pressuring him, he could see that plainly.

It was only when he was out the door that he let himself relax. He sagged against the door and ran a hand through his hair. His fingers came away wet, and he frowned down at them. He was sweating? The air was still cool, and his fingertips trembled. He clenched his fist tightly and leaned his head back against the door. There was no chance in hell he'd be going back in there. The entire experience had left him feeling drained, and he hated the feeling. For some idiotic reason Loony made him weaken. It would be better if she was gone. He hoped whatever the Dark Lord planned for her would happen soon, so he could stop thinking about her.

"Draco," a soft lilting voice spoke from behind him, on the other side of the door. He stiffened and swallowed hard. "Dumbledore forgave you . . . before the end. I know he did. You don't need to feel guilty. It was meant to be. And you don't need to be afraid. Everything will turn out right. You'll see."

Draco gasped in a painful sob, and his body jerked away from the door convulsively. He glowered at it, but the voice didn't speak again. He wondered worriedly if he had imagined it. Clutching his dressing robes tightly around himself, he ran quickly to his bedroom where he flung his wand across the room before collapsing facedown on the bed and burying his head in his silk pillow. Loony's words haunted him, and his cheek burned from where she had touched him. He wanted to believe the voice, but knew it was dangerous. It would weaken him, and he could not afford to be weak when the Dark Lord himself was taking up residence in Malfoy Manor. No, he had to banish the entire scene from his mind. And he would need to work more on his Occlumency. Luna Lovegood must never see into him again.

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**Hmmm, I think I should write more about these two. I have an idea to write some with an "Un-" theme. (i.e. Unexpected, Undaunted, Unspoken, Unafraid, etc.) What do ya'll think? Review and tell me! Oh, and tell me what you think of the oneshot as well. XD**


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